


The Sweetest Illusion

by DestinyIslandWanderer



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Child Ignis Scientia, Child Noctis Lucis Caelum, Childhood Memories, Coming Out, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27605041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyIslandWanderer/pseuds/DestinyIslandWanderer
Summary: “What about you, Noct?” Prompto asks. “What was your first kiss like?”Noctis freezes, panics. Gladio and Prompto both shared their stories, but somehow Noctis didn’t expect to be put on the spot like this. He tries to be discreet when he glances at Ignis. He’s never once spoken about his first kiss since it happened, not to anyone, and especially not to Ignis.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 15
Kudos: 122





	The Sweetest Illusion

They’re riding the high of a 12-pack of cheap beer from Hammerhead, and everyone’s feeling loopy and bright, wrapped around the campfire on a breezy night.

“What about you, Noct?” Prompto asks. “What was your first kiss like?”

Noctis freezes, panics. Gladio and Prompto both shared their stories, but somehow Noctis didn’t expect to be put on the spot like this. He tries to be discreet when he glances at Ignis. He’s never once spoken about his first kiss since it happened, not to anyone, and especially not to Ignis.

* * *

Ignis is 13 years old, and 13 years old feels incredibly _important._ To be a _teenager,_ practically an adult, just like he’s always wanted to be, especially since he received the honor of becoming Noctis’s advisor.

Too clever for children his own age and too short for adults to take seriously. Ignis always finds himself on the outs. Of course, it doesn’t bother him, because no matter what they think or say behind his back, he _is_ the prince’s advisor, and _that_ is very impressive for a boy his age, and that is all that matters.

Noctis’s birthday party is not Ignis’s cup of tea. Regis— _yes, Ignis is on a first-name basis with the king, and proudly so_ —has insisted on a _normal_ children’s party with streamers and party hats and all the lamentably rambunctious children that comprise Noctis’s 6th grade class.

Noctis has just started middle school, so he barely knows anyone, and Ignis can tell he isn’t entirely comfortable. He stays mostly to himself, quietly observing his surroundings. It’s not disinterest, just his own stubborn willpower to observe and _not_ participate. Ignis knows this about him because he knows _everything_ about Noctis—his likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses—cake being foremost among the latter. 

Still, he looks at Noctis fondly, because he can relate to the desire to separate oneself from such a juvenile spectacle. He’d rather be studying Lucian history or playing a game of chess with a well-matched opponent. Speaking of, maybe he can sneak off to see if Gladio’s up for a game. He spots him across the room, arms folded, leaning against the wall, trying to look _too cool_ for the party because he’s older than everyone else and is undoubtedly here because his dad made him. 

Gladio accepts his offer, begrudgingly at first—but only because he probably thinks chess is _not_ cool—and Ignis sets the board up on the coffee table, so he can still keep Noctis in his line of sight. However, as the game gets slowly more intense, he finds his mind shifting to strategy instead of his charge, Noctis forgotten for the thrill of the game.

It’s not until later, when the party’s over and servants bustle around clearing up the streamers and leftover party favors, that Ignis finds Noctis sitting on one end of the couch, head laying on the armrest as he stares blankly forward.

“Is everything alright, Noct?” he asks, taking a seat at his side.

Noctis startles and sits up. “Hmm? Yeah, s’okay,” he insists, but the fact that he quickly stands and darts in the direction of his room doesn’t bode well. Ignis looks at his watch and counts a full two minutes for him to calm down before he follows behind. 

Noctis is leaning with his back against his bed frame in a protective posture, his arms wrapped around his legs. He observes Ignis before burying his face into his knees. Ignis knows it’s going to be difficult to coax out the truth, but he’s always been more patient than Noctis is stubborn, and it’s served him well over the years.

He waits at Noctis’s side, tickling soothing lines down his back, until Noctis falls sideways into his arms, his cheek resting against Ignis’s chest.

“What happened?”

“Some kids snuck off and, um...they were _kissing_.”

“What?! When?! That certainly shouldn’t have been allowed. You’re in sixth grade! I can’t believe no one stopped—“

He sees Noctis’s fingers start balling into nervous fists, and Ignis takes a deep breath. “Apologies. Go on.”

“They dared me to kiss Pippi Pendergast.”

“Oh,” Ignis says, willing himself—with forced restraint—not to voice his opinions until Noctis has finished his story. “Well, did you?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad you didn’t. That shows very sound judgment. You’re far too young to consider kissing anyone, let alone some random classmate.”

Noctis is conspicuously silent. Ignis waits, a soothing hand now tickling down his arm. 

Eventually, Noctis says, “You really think I’m too young to kiss someone?”

Ignis isn’t sure how to answer that question, so he replies, “Your first kiss should be with someone special, and frankly I don’t think anyone in your class deserves the honor. You’re much more mature than they are, and besides you’re royalty.”

“Hmm…”

“What is it?”

“I didn’t wanna kiss Pippi Pendergast.”

“Like I said, it shows sound judgement.”

“It’s not because there’s anything wrong with her. I like her. It’s just…I don’t want to kiss a girl. _Any_ girl.”

He’s hinting at something Ignis has long-suspected and often feared, and Ignis feels a desperate urge to redirect the conversation away from the inevitable. It’s not a conversation for Noctis’s birthday, he reasons, though when it _is_ a conversation eludes him as well.

“She’s certainly not the best choice for you, is she? I’m not sure what her marks are in school, but I saw her—“

“ _No._ That’s not what I mean.”

Ignis feels his heart race, and the hand tickling Noctis’s arms stops of its own accord.

“I mean, it’s because I like _boys.”_

“How...how could you know that? You’re only eleven.”

Ignis knows it’s the wrong thing to say right away because Noctis retreats from his embrace and curls into a ball again.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I was simply stating a fact, that you’re very young and normally someone your age wouldn’t be thinking about kissing—“

“You never thought about kissing anyone when _you_ were eleven?”

Dismissive words come so much more easily than the truth, so Ignis fumbles through excuses. “Oh, maybe I did, I can’t quite remember, I—“

“The thing is...I like you, Iggy.”

“I like you too, Noct,” he says calmly even as his heart is beating at an untenable rate, knowing he shouldn’t indulge this another second, but also knowing that he wants to, and that’s why it’s so dangerous. 

“No, I mean, _I like you,_ Iggy.”

“Noct…”

“I know you don’t like _me,_ okay?! I’m just telling you why I didn’t kiss Pippi Pendergast, because you asked.”

To his utter horror, Noctis begins to cry. 

When Ignis had first met Noctis, the prince used to cry all the time. He’d always been overly sensitive to the opinions of others, but Ignis, with his unwavering professionalism and ability to disguise his emotions, had slowly taught him bravery and restraint. By second grade, the crying fits had subsided and rarely reappeared, making this moment all the more shocking and difficult to process.

“Oh Noct, I—“ The rest of the sentence is made up of excuses that would be sure to wound Noctis more than Ignis already has, and he can’t bear to see Noctis crying. He’s had such a good track record of making him happy. It’s one of the things Regis congratulates him for most.

Noctis cries a little more before curiously lifting his eyes to meet Ignis’s, red-rimmed and wet, only accentuating the electric blue irises that Ignis is more fond of than he’d ever care to admit. Ignis is speechless, tempted by those blue eyes and parted lips.

It’s not Ignis’s first kiss. He was too curious what all the fuss was about and kissed an eighth grader in the locker room last year. He hadn’t gotten much out of it except a vague interest that was easily ignored, because Ignis had much more important things to worry about.

The point is, he’s not entirely inexperienced as his lips touch Noctis’s with a gentle firmness, the sweet sensation over too quickly, because Ignis’s mind is quickly catching up to the reckless desire he just tasted on his prince’s lips. 

Noctis doesn’t say a word, just stares at him in confused amazement and the sweetest illusion of hope, so sweet and so dangerous, and Ignis says something that at age 22, he still regrets.

“No one can know about what just happened,” Ignis says, as he slides off the bed and plants his feet firmly on the floor, “and it can never happen again. Do you understand?”

He can already see Noctis wilting into himself, his wonder crushed into disappointment, and it breaks his heart and his resolve, but not enough to quiet the part of him that can see years of implications. What would everyone say—Clarus, _Regis—_ about Ignis falling for a prince when he’s just a poor boy from Tenebrae with an uncle who managed to procure him a prestigious position? Everything he’s worked for can all be taken from him the moment someone says so, and he can’t let that happen, not to him or Noctis, who relies on him for everything.

That’s why, years later, he accepts Noctis’s engagement with the same brave indifference he showed on that day, in spite of Noctis’s own horror that hides just under the surface, just like Ignis taught him.

Now, around a campfire, Ignis is prepared to save Noctis with some made-up anecdote, but Noctis’s eyes dart back to the group, and he replies, “Yeah, it was some girl in my class. It was a dare. Not too much to say about it.”

“Huh, kinda lame,” Prompto sighs, “I was hoping for somethin’ a little more romantic, since you’re a prince, like I dunno, a royal ball or something.”

Noctis just shrugs and goes silent.

“What about you, Igster?”

“Just some boy in the locker room, I’m afraid. My story is no more notable than Noct’s.”

* * *

Noctis knows Ignis wants to talk to him. He’s been eyeing Noctis all night, ever since he lied about the first kiss story. Noctis is sure he doesn’t want to hear what Iggy has to say, because it’s probably just some unnecessary apology for making the moment uncomfortable, and it doesn’t even matter anymore. Noctis got over it a long time ago. He kept his promise never to talk about it again, and it’s been almost 10 years now. Iggy should know he’s got nothing to worry about.

When Prompto and Gladio call it a night, Noctis quickly attempts to follow, but Ignis asks him to help clean the grill, and he reluctantly agrees, feeling anxious at the very thought of Ignis digging up the subject they’ve successfully avoided all these years. 

Ignis waits until they hear the rhythm of both Gladio and Prompto’s snoring before he begins. “I apologize that you had to lie to protect me earlier.”

“No big deal. Seriously, Ig. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Ignis puts down the steel brush he’s been holding and turns to face him, and Noctis has the urge to run, but his loyalty to Ignis keeps him stationary, nervously waiting.

“I know it was a long time ago, but I’d like to apologize for my behavior on that day.”

“C’mon, Iggy. We were just kids. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“I was cruel to you. You were merely trying to tell me the truth about how you felt, and I dismissed you outright. I’ve regretted it every day since.”

“It’s cool. Really. I shouldn’t have even told you what I did either. I should probably be apologizing to you.”

“No. _No._ You tried to come out to me, and I didn’t listen. I’ve never allowed you to share that part of your life. I worry about what it’s done to your well-being to keep such a monumental secret.”

“I’m fine. Seriously. All good.” Noctis wants to run, just like he’s always wanted to run from this discussion, ever since that day, because he can’t feel this way, and he shouldn’t. What Ignis said was true. 

“Noctis…”

“You don’t have to feel bad for me. I owe you a lot. Just because _maybe_ you didn’t do _one_ thing perfectly…”

“Your feelings haven’t changed at all, have they?”

“About what?” he asks, praying that Ignis isn’t asking what Noctis thinks he’s asking.

“About your sexuality.”

“Um, no.”

“Then you’re not looking forward to marrying Luna?”

Noctis shakes his head. “She’s a good person, but…” As long as he lives, he’ll never finish that sentence. He swore to himself at the age of eleven that he never would.

“But what?” Ignis whispers.

“Nothing. I’m gonna get some sleep, so…” He turns towards the tent and feels Ignis’s hand wrap around his forearm.

“I think it’s important, even though it was so long ago, to let you know that I _did_ reciprocate your feelings. I was simply too frightened to admit to it.”

Noctis’s skin tingles under Ignis’s touch. He’s always believed Ignis only kissed him because he didn’t want to see him cry, because he felt bad for him, and now that it’s out in the open, he has to know.

“And how do you feel about me now?”

“Oh Noct,” Ignis sighs, “you know it’s best we don’t—“

Of course. Of course Ignis would say that. Noctis doesn’t know why he still looks for signs that Ignis shares his feelings. It’s so stupid when Ignis still sees him as a child half the time and wouldn’t even dare express his feelings even if he had them, and for good reason.

Noctis doesn’t have anything else to say. He just wants to curl up in his sleeping bag, and if he needs to cry, he can do it quietly, so as not to wake the others, and no one has to know.

“I hate to see you look so downtrodden,” Ignis says, placing his warm palm on Noctis’s cheek. He’s used to Ignis touching him like this, in ways that border on too intimate, that make Noctis imagine things he absolutely shouldn’t. But it’s just because he and Ignis have known each other since childhood. They’re like brothers. That’s how Noctis makes it okay.

What he can’t reason away is the intensity of Ignis’s gaze. Noctis wants to look away, but he can’t, because Ignis has always had a way of pulling him in and drawing him out, as irresistible now as he was that day they first kissed. 

“It’s kinda nice to hear you say that. All these years I thought the only person who ever kissed me did it because they felt bad for me.”

“I’m the only person you’ve ever kissed?” Ignis whispers, his eyes growing in intensity, lit by the dying embers of the fire.

Noctis nods. 

“Oh Noct…Surely you know...how I feel about you?”

Noctis can hardly breathe, let alone find the words to respond. He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt the wetness pooling on Ignis’s thumb as it wiped his tears away.

Ignis moves in closer until their faces are just inches apart, and Ignis’s hand slips down to linger on the sensitive flesh on the side of his neck. 

“At the risk of hurting you again, I must remind you that no one can know what’s about to happen, and—“

“It can never happen again,” Noctis finishes his sentence.

“And you still want me to kiss you?”

Noctis nods his head and crashes into Ignis’s lips, which greet him just as hungrily as the rest of his body, pulling Noctis as close as he can, the sensation of Ignis on every inch of him, the desire so long expressed in small touches now combined into one overwhelming sensation.

Ignis separates their lips first, but he keeps Noctis in his embrace.

“I love you and have always loved you,” Ignis confesses, “and, because I’ve tried for so long to deny it with no success, I am sure that I shall always love you. Of course, you know as well as I why no one can find out.”

“I know.” 

“Very well, then,” Ignis says, removing the warmth of his embrace but reaching down to squeeze his hand with one last meaningful look. He’s trying to leave, but Noctis doesn’t let go of his hand. 

“I feel the same way, Iggy, just so you know. I...I love you too.”

“I know, darling. I know.”

There’s one more squeeze before Ignis leaves him, quickly disappearing into the tent. He could almost imagine the last few minutes were a dream if it weren’t for the warmth Ignis left in his palm.

  
  
  
  



End file.
